Get Back
by My name's AC
Summary: After being reported as Missing In Action for over a year, Natasha is assumed to be dead. But, she found her way out and meet with the other Avengers at Stark Tower. She's very much bruised and things won't be easy to restart after being away for so long. (All Avengers are in the story, BlackHawk/Clintasha)
1. Chapter 1

**This fanfiction started as a role play on Omegle. I do not know the other's person name to credit him/her on the bit we worked together, but I'll be sure to give him/her the deserve merit once I know.**

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><p>It had been about a year since Natasha had left for her mission. It had been without any good-byes, so when she was pronounced Missing in Action after being captured, most people thought she was dead. Luckily, she found her way out and got on the first flight back to New York. The redhead stepped up the Tower steps and talked to JARVIS for a moment, who let her in but didn't tell the team about it. She bit down gently on her lip and traveled towards the dining room, eyes scanning over the familiar faces before stepping out of the shadows. Cuts, bruises and scars covered her body, including the large gash across her cheek. Natasha cleared her throat and stood at the end of the table.<p>

"Room for one more?" She asked quietly as the room went silent.

Everyone was astonished to see her, alive, before their eyes, and they all got up to congratulate her somehow. But not Clint. He seemed to be pinned down on his chair, static. She gave them all smiles, answering their questions, though her eyes continued to flicker back and forth to Clint. A rush of guilt came over her, knowing how hard it must have been, especially for him. His gaze met hers and the only thing he did was get up and walk out. There was a moment of awkwardness for the others. "I think the birdie is taking it too hard." Tony pronounced.

Natasha shot Tony a look and pushed past him, walking to Clint, trying to catch up to him. "Clint..." She said softly, a few feet behind him. "Clint, wait... Please." Her voice was pleading.

He stopped eventually but didn't turn around. It was paining him all that situation, especially the fact that he could see and imagine how physically hurt she may be. "Glad you made it out alive, Widow." Coldly he spoke.

She sighed softly. He only called her that when he was upset. "I'm sorry... I really am. I didn't mean to be gone for this long, but some... Really, really bad things happened." She forced back her tears as she spoke to him, voice honest.

"I understand it may have not been your fault for not communicating any time sooner," Clint faced her; his facial features were rough and unreadable. "but I've mourned your death... and that was it." He then continued to walk without a defined path; he just wanted to walk away.

She clenched her jaw and grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her, looking up at him. "And it was obviously fake, wasn't it? I'm here. I'm alive." Her eyes filled with fire. "And now you're just going to forget about me? That's not fair, Clint. I left... I left to protect you guys."

"Protect us?" He pulled his arm back with some strength that made her walk back a few steps. "Last time I checked we could all protect our own asses!" He gave no more than two steps ahead and turned back again. "Fake or not I felt it. It hurt... You don't exactly expect me to pretend it is all fine. I'm sorry if I can't act like you, so quick on your feet despite the situation."

"No, Clint, I don't expect you to think it is all okay, but the people who were tracking me are more powerful than S.H.I.E.L.D. Like I said, that's why I left. I've dealt with them before, so I know their weak spots..." She clenched her jaw again. "It's because I was trained to do that. You don't know what it is like to be completely wired in a certain situation and have you mind wiped from any personal memories each and every week, just so you can perform well on missions. Sorry for having to do that," she shot back, the last sentence sarcastic. Natasha turned and started walking down the opposite way.

"Shit!" He hissed. Sometimes he didn't know how to handle her. "Natasha..." He called her once. "Tasha...? I'm sorry. I'm hurt, but so are you... Let's not make it like this, not right now." He grabbed her by both arms and made her look at him in the eye; Natasha glared up at him. "I was a jackass just a while ago; I'm just being driven away."

Her gaze began to soften when she let out a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah, I know... I'm sorry too."

Clint couldn't help but let out a deep sigh as a frail smile twitched his lips. "I'm so glad you are alive, Tasha." He spoke, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't know how much I've wished that every day for the past year."

She nodded, tears welling a bit in her eyes, not really being able to help herself. "I know... I missed you so much," Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as she spoke. It had been the longest time they had ever been apart, and she had been miserable.

Gently he pecked her mouth, being careful about the cut on her lip. He rested his forehead against hers and let their fingers intertwine. "How many more bruises do you have? And please tell me the ones who did this to you are all dead or else I'll find them and they'll wish to never having been born at all."

She closed her eyes after resting his forehead against hers, holding tightly onto his hand. She smiled a bit and nodded slowly. "A lot more... And cuts and scars... And yes, they are all dead. I somehow managed to kill all of them, even in the state I was in." She shuddered slightly at the memory.

"I knew you were strong. You have always been." He pulled her closer against his chest, whispering in her ear. "I'll wait until all of those heal. I can't bring myself to look at you like that."

She nodded again, pressed against him, eyes still closed. "I can't look at myself like this either..." She whispered back, taking in a deep breath. She felt safe, now that she was in his arms again.

"Should we go inside or...?" Clint didn't know what to say. He just wanted time and space to stay still at that moment for as long as it was possible. She was back in his arms, not at the best of the shapes, but alive; she could say again that his heart and embrace are her home and he could hold her tight.

Natasha nodded and took in a deep breath, opening her eyes and looking up into his. "Yeah." She smiled a little. "It's Friday... Are we still on for movie night?" She teased a bit, remembering their weekly doing. Usually, it would be some terrible "B" class movie, but that was part of what made it fun.

Clint admitted. "I didn't show up very often lately... But I guess it's still on. Apparently Tony is still interested in teaching the Asgardian about our human life. They were discussing that we were going to watch _Stark Trek_ or something."

She let off a small laugh and an eye roll, shaking her head slightly. "Of course he wants to do that... And _Stark Trek_ sounds fine." She shrugged a bit, running her tongue over her bottom lip. Natasha gave Clint's hand a slight squeeze, a bright look in her blue eyes.

"Let's go inside then? I'm pretty sure that they are all listening by the door."

She grinned and nodded. "Wouldn't surprise me, and yeah. Let's go."

"Ow!" Steve groaned covering his forehead, being smashed by the door as Clint opened it. In a flash the others returned to the couch, like the two hadn't notice that they were listening by the door.

Natasha rolled her eyes, smacking Tony and Steve in the back of the head, not necessarily wanting to piss the other two off. "Nice try you guys..." She muttered, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, where she would usually sit. She pulled a blanket around her and sighed.

"And she's like the old times." Tony grumbled, scratching the back of her head as he walked to the couch. "A bit stronger should I say."

"... Things... happen to you, when you go on a mission like that," She shot back, wincing slightly when she adjusted her position.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to offend you, Natasha." Bruce mended things right. "He's just always like this."

"I remember..." She muttered, leaning slowly back against the couch.

"That's a positive thing." Clint said, offering a smile. "Remembering..."

Natasha nodded, glancing up at him. "It took me awhile to remember a lot of things, but I think it's all back to me now."

"That's unrealistic!" Thor shouted, pointing at the TV screen. "It's nothing like that!" He then said to the others.

Natasha flinched a little at Thor's sudden shouting. "Thor, it's a movie... It's not supposed to be realistic." She giggled and rolled her eyes.

Clint accommodated on the floor next to Natasha as Thor continued to complain. "Then I do not understand this purpose of watching movies. As far as I've seen, the good ones always manage to live."

"Not everyone has a happy ending," She said softly, looking up to the Asgardian. "that's what people should expect to happen. That they might not get that perfect life that they had always dreamed of."

"Way to go with the mood." Steve grumbled, burying his face on his hand.

Natasha shot Steve a glare, holding back her snarky reply to it, eyes turning back towards the screen. "Well, I didn't get mine either..." She said after a moment, breaking the silence. The one thing she had always wanted, she couldn't even have-children.

Clint leaned in her ear and whispered without the others noticing. "You can always adopt. I've told you that."

"Not the point," She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, eyes fixed onto the screen.

"Right..." He spoke in low voice. "Let's just watch the movie."

She muttered something in Russian and then went silent. The archer didn't pay any attention to the movie, dedicating all his concern. She glanced up at him, catching his grey eyes with her blue ones for a brief moment. He looked away, pretending like he hadn't been staring at her the whole time. Still he almost inaudibly spoke. "Sorry..."

She smirked softly, nudging him gently. "Don't worry about it. I don't care." She could feel Tony's eyes on them.

"Come a little closer, then?" He asked, throwing her a begging and somehow cutesy look.

She smirked again and moved closer, their thighs touching, her eyes sparkling. It didn't take long for her head to fall over Clint's shoulder, but he realized something wasn't alright. She wasn't reacting and her body was too heavy for her to be _just_ sleeping. He put his hand in front of her nose, feeling her very weak breathing. When he placed his hand on her chin and raised her head, it fell back. Clint instantly wrapped his arm around her back and laid her down on the floor. Everyone was now attentive to her situation.

"Natasha?" He asked as he slightly slapped her face, trying to bring her back. His eyes rose to Bruce as he begged. "Doctor?"

He slightly frowned. "Not my area of expertise-"

"Doctor!" Clint firmly pleaded. Bruce came to down to his knees, checking on Natasha as Tony was calling an ambulance. "Call the Agency too; tell them Natasha's being taken to the hospital."

"Her pulse is very low." Bruce affirmed pressing his fingers on the side of her neck, feeling her feeble beating heart on the tip of his fingers. "Raise her legs," He told Clint as he unbuckled her belt, that was restraining blood circulation. As he put his hand on her forehead he stated. "she's feverish." He turned to Tony. "Tell them to come fast; I don't know how to handle this."

Tony put Bruce on the phone and he was reporting Natasha's condition. Luckily this wasn't anything new for Clint. He started checking on her cuts and bruises. "It's an infection." He said. "The cuts are very badly healed."

Steve peered down the window, stating. "The EMT's arrived."

Clint took the chance. He grabbed her in arms and walked all the way down to the medical team, and then boarded on the ambulance with them.

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><p><strong>I'll leaving hanging on this, yes, I'm known for being very evil when it comes to things like this.<strong>

**Want a second chapter? Be sure to ask me for it by leaving a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here it is second chapter. Let's hope I got to keep up with what was the first one. I've got the story all lined up so let's hope I don't mess it up! **

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><p>Clint sat on a chair beside her bed. His elbows were propped on his thighs and his hands were rested in his lap. Every once in a while he rocked his body back and forward, changing the body's weight from the tip of his feet to the heels in an attempt to entertain himself as he patiently waited. The nurses had properly healed her wounds and injected a cocktail of drugs on her. The doctor told Clint that her physical health was frail. Her wounds created an infection; she showed signs of malnourishment and sleep deprivation.<p>

Natasha awoke up and she immediately started flicking through the whole room. Rays of blood were visible in the sclera of her eye and her chest was expanding and compressing with long and troubled breaths.

Clint grabbed her hand as she hadn't notice he was sitting next to her. Natasha's first rational movement was to squeeze his hand hard enough to make him groan.

"It's me, Tasha. It's alright."

She settled down for a while. "Hospital?"

"Yeah… You passed out. Who healed those wounds of yours?"

"Me. I healed myself." Coming to a sudden realization she gasped and asked him. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Uhm, some five or six hours."

"No, damn it. That's too long…" She whispered, rubbing her forehead. "Have the doctors administrate me anything?"

"A whole bunch of stuff. You're malnourished, sleep deprived and with a severe infection. When was the last time you ate?"

Natasha wasn't concerned about that at the moment but she answered him. "Three days ago or so. I got to eat before returning to New York."

"And how long don't you sleep?"

"I don't sleep since Christmas day, 2012."

Clint frowned. "You're telling me you don't sleep in over a year?"

"I slept about two to three hours a day. Couldn't take the risk of sleeping more than that."

"They messed with your brain again?"

She didn't answer that one and pointed to the clipboard hanging at the footboard. "Read what they've injected me."

Clint sighed and stretched his arm grabbing the clipboard. He flipped through the pages and read to her. "Iron, calcium, potassium, magnesium, many vitamins, painkillers, antibiotics-"

There wasn't anything else to read but still he stopped because Natasha started pulling out the needles of her arm. "Get these from me, Clint. Please." She whimpered.

"Are you crazy?" He said as he tried to stop her. "You're really sick-"

She grasped his arm very tightly. The two stopped and looked into each other's eyes. "The antibiotics will make my immunity system start working and you don't want to be around when I start working properly again… My brain was played with again."

"Yes, but pulling these out won't make you _any_ better. Will you feel better if you are transferred to SHIELD's infirmary?"

"That's the worst thing you can you ever think of, Clint. I'll try to kill you and everyone that shows up in my away. And I'll want to take down SHIELD and it will happen very fast if you don't let me pulled these out!"

"I rather have to deal with you psychotic than not having to deal with you at all."

"This is no time for sentimentalism. If I have to die then at least let me die without having to kill anyone along with me."

Clint let go of her and she thought he had given up on her. It saddened her somehow to think that he had given up so easily, but he hadn't. He walked out the room and brought a nurse who strapped Natasha to the bed and again put the needles on her.

She tugged at her raw wrists in an attempt to get free but soon gave up, feeling weak.

"You've got no idea of the mistake you have just done, Clint." She murmured as a tear rushed down her face.

"I'll take you home soon and you'll be alright." He got up and planted a kiss on her hair, stroking her cheek slightly with his thumb. "You should get some sleep now."

"Set me free, Clint." She pleaded but he pretended not to hear, leaving the room.

When he found himself in the middle of the hall he saw Agent Duncan waiting to talk with him. "Brief me in about Agent Romanoff's condition."

"Has an infection, is sleep deprived, malnourished, had her brain used as a toy again… I'd say she had had better days." He snorted that last sentence sarcastically. He was feeling miserable enough to have to answer to an Agent who was there to report to Director Fury.

"I'll have it arranged for her to be transferred to SHIELD and then we can wipe clean her brain-"

"What?" He yelled, making those that were walking by stare him for a while. "You're not doing that. Enough playing with her brain!"

"God knows what experiments they've done on her. We have to react before it's far too late."

"She has memories, you know? She's just confused! I've been her partner for seven years-"

"It's no time to be sentimentalist. We have to be rational about this and Agent Romanoff is a ticking bomb about to explode any day."

Clint swallowed in dry; if he couldn't appeal to sentiment, then he'd try to strike him down with rational arguments. "Will you completely throw away seven years she dedicated to this Agency? Are you willing to lose a year in training and another one until she trusts another Agent to be her partner?"

"Agent Romanoff has a very specific set of skills. She's… gifted… It will be no loss in wasting time on training her again. However, it'll be disastrous if she turns against us. She'll get her brain wiped clean again and there's nothing you can do about it." Duncan spoke as he was making his way out.

Clint strolled after him. "I can talk to Fury."

"It won't make a change."

"Then let's see." He grasped his hand on his shoulder and made him turn around and face him. "Call him now."

Duncan sighed and brushed off Clint's hand from his shoulder. He grabbed the phone to call SHIELD's Director. After a while waiting the phone came to Clint's hands.

"I believe you're not going to tell anything good, Agent Barton."

"I leave all the news for Duncan to tell you. I just want to remind you of something. Remember what I've told you when I brought Natasha into SHIELD?"

"That you were going to turn her into our finest Agent and that you were to take responsibility for anything she might do during the adaptation process. You said you knew how to handle her."

"Have I ever disappointed you so far about that?" Getting no answer he continued. "I ask you, Sir, trust me on this."

"I've got no idea of the current situation."

Clint firmed his voice. "Just trust me, Sir."

After a while Fury spoke. "Whatever repercussions your actions might take will be charged directly and only over you."

"Didn't expect it any other way, Sir." Clint put the phone against Duncan's chest and spat. "She's not going anywhere, understand?"

"Yes, Agent Barton." The other answered in the same tone.

Clint returned to Natasha's side again. She was almost sleeping again, her eyes trembling, heavy due to the medication effect. When he held her hand on his, she recognized his touch and slightly turned her head to look at him.

"I'm not giving up, at least for now…" She whispered and he smiled. "But if I try to kill you or do anything wrong, you have my brain being wiped clean again."

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><p><strong>Reviews are always nice and I very much need something niceimproving now. School exams aren't the best thing in the world...! **


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha lied when she was asked how she spent the night. She didn't sleep at all, but kept her eyes shut the entire time. She had been haunted by memories that were slowly crawling back into her mind. All she could listen to was Russian dialect, gunshots and the voice of _that_ man who was with her the whole time as they were doing experiments on her brain. Clint slept on the chair right next to her, awaking up in the morning with a back ache for sleeping in such uncomfortable position.

A nurse had come by and had freed one of Natasha's hands as she brought her breakfast- scrambled eggs, a glass of juice and an apple. Natasha was stirring the eggs in her plate. Clint's stomach growled, proclaiming his hunger, but he didn't want to leave the room, not until Natasha would at least take a bite of the breakfast.

"Stop looking at me like that." She asked him, not lifting the eyes from the plate.

"Then stop stirring the food and eat." He answered back. "I think the eggs are scrambled enough." Clint sighed. "Want me to free your other hand too?"

"No, it's not necessary."

"Then eat, Tasha. It'll only help you getting better."

She winced and took a forkful of eggs to her mouth, eating it very reluctantly. Clint rested back on the chair, holding his head with the tip of his fingers, watching her eating. They heard a knock and when Clint looked back, Tony and Pepper were walking in.

"It's the human-shaped asshole and Pepper." Natasha spoke, offering a mocking grin at Tony.

"You still remember me!" He answered back in the same mocking tone.

Natasha took another bite of the food and murmured. "Don't know for how much long, though…"

"Well," Clint said as he got up. "do you mind keeping her company while I go eat something too?"

"No, of course not, Clint." Pepper told him as she patted his shoulder.

He leaned over Pepper's ear and whispered. "She had her brain messed with again; be careful with what you say."

The woman nodded her head and watched Clint walk out the door.

"Good morning, Agent Barton."

Clint breathed thoroughly and looked at the man. "Morning, Duncan. I though you have gathered all the information to tell Fury."

"Yes, I've briefed in Director Fury and we've came up with some solutions we believe it'd be appropriate to tell you about. Can I join you for a coffee?"

He started walking to the hospital's cafeteria. "Do I have a choice?"

Once the two settled on a table in the cafeteria, Clint waited for Duncan to speak, but he didn't even say a word. "Can I know now about your solutions?"

"Two doctors that work for us are on their way here. We're going to submit Agent Romanoff to some MRIs and brain scans and we'll compare her brain activity with other exams we've submitted her in the past when we recruited her."

"Seems fine." He said. "What else?"

"I'll tell you about the further decisions once I know the results of today's exams."

"What a crappy cup of coffee…" Clint got up and told him. "A bit useless this conversation. I'm gonna get going."

When Clint returned to Natasha's room, she was alone. "They've left already?" She only nodded her head and looked down at her wrists, strapped to the bed again.

He took a seat at the edge of her bed, unstrapping her. "Two doctors from SHIELD are on their way here; they want to do you some MRIs and brain scans to know how your brain activity is. Try to collaborate with them, ok?"

"You know I'll do my best, Clint, but I can't make promises I'm not sure I'll keep."

He cleared his throat, finding no strength to comment on her remark. "When the doctors arrive, I'll go home and bring you some clothes. I'm pretty sure the doctor can discharge you by today; I really want to take you home, so you can be more comfortable. Besides, there's someone I want to introduce to you."

"Who?"

"My dog, Lucky…"

Natasha smiled. "You got a dog?"

Clint couldn't help but to smile too; after all, he was expecting some difficult times and seeing her smiling was something positive, not to mention something beautiful since he had not seen her smile in over a year. "I adopted him from the streets, almost blinded of an eye. I fed him some pizza, which wasn't that good, and he liked me."

"I bet you are as sloppy as the dog."

"It's a men's house!" The two laughed softly. A little knock interrupted their conversation. Agent Duncan stuck his head and signaled Clint that the doctors had arrived. The archer requested him a minute before leaving the room. "Well, I guess this is my cue to leave. I'll be back in no time." He leaned over her lips, giving her a slow kiss. "Behave, alright?"

Slowly the smile started to fade away from Natasha's features. She called him when he was about to leave the room, his hand already twisting the doorknob. "Clint?" He turned to face her; his eyes mirroring extreme patience. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"You'd have done the same for me."

She only answered with a whisper when he left the room. "Yeah, I would."

The doctors entered, one of them carrying a clipboard. "Hello Agent Romanoff."

"Hello…" She answered, apprehensive.

"I'm sure Agent Barton has told you about we're going to do. First, we'd just like to ask you a question." One of the doctors began. "During this year, did you have _conscious_ moments?"

"Yes. Not many, and they never lasted for much long, but I did had some."

The other doctor continued. "How did you manage to have those moments?"

"Eating little, sleeping even less… Whenever I ran my body to an exhaustion point, I'd break and I could barely have memories."

The two nodded as one of them scribbled her answer. Then they wheeled her bed along the aisles, taking her to the exam's room.

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><p>Clint didn't really take much long at home. He just fed Lucky, grabbed some clean clothes for Natasha and left right away. When he got back to the hospital, Natasha was still being examined by the SHIELD doctors. Steve was there at the waiting room. He explained to him about Natasha's current situation, the two chatted for a while more and then Steve left, feeling he was no use around Clint at the moment. And so he left the Agent waiting for two hours more until Natasha was brought back to her room.<p>

Her eyes were closed and he wondered if they had to put her to sleep, but he soon noticed her eyes trembling and realized she was tired. He let her take her rest, all alone in the room when he came to meet with the SHIELD doctors. Agent Duncan didn't take his time in joining them too.

"So, what's the prognosis?"

"Her brain was messed very carelessly. Whoever did this was certainly not HYDRA." One of the doctors spoke. "They expected her to tell SHIELD secrets, instead they did much worst."

"_How_ worst are we talking about?" Clint asked concerned.

"In a matter of one or two days she can remember only this past year, whatever they done to her. We've injected some radioactive markers to know-"

"Speak quickly and in English."

The doctor sighed; there no right words to tell him their conclusions. "If she receives certain stimulus, her brain can regress too much. It can deteriorate and only remember the time before she was recruited by SHIELD."

"You," Clint sighed and pointed his finger at Duncan. "what are the other further decisions?"

Duncan dismissed the doctors to speak privately with Clint. "The doctors have said it; in two days, she'll be raged and won't obey to any of our rules. If until then you don't manage to hold her on, SHIELD is forced to… put her down…"

Clint raised his fist and punched him right in the face. "Yesterday you wanted to wipe clean her brain and now you're already talking about putting a bullet in her head!?"

Duncan got up, squeezing his bleeding nose. "SHIELD will have no other choice. _Everyone_ is well aware that if her brain deteriorates, you'll run off with her. We can't risk having her exposing information-"

The Agent was down on the floor as Clint, furiously and out of his mind, punched him again. "You're damn right I'd run off with her! Dare _any_ of you to lay a finger on her." He started walking to the room. "I thought Fury trusted me."

When he opened the door, a doctor and a nurse were examining her. If he was tired of seeing doctors around her, he couldn't imagine how stressed she may be. "Doctor, can I take her home right now?"

"I don't see why not. Agent Romanoff is recovering very favorably. She just need to take the medication I'll prescribe her and then come in in about two or three days to change the bandages."

Clint dragged the doctor out of the room by the collar of the lab coat. "Prescribe her those meds, and you" He said pointing back at the nurse. "help her getting dressed."

"What the hell are you doing, Barton?" Natasha mumbled.

"The doctor said you're good to go home, so we're going home."

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><p><strong>If anyone wants to punch Agent Duncan in the face, I'll make an arrangement. xD<strong>

**Leave a review? They're very nice...**


	4. Chapter 4

"Natasha…" Clint softly spoke as she was crushing his hand on hers.

Slowly she let him go of her deadly grip. "Sorry…"

As they walked by the city, she seemed to regain strengths, but not many memories though. Clint was expectant for the time she'd say _I remember this or that_, but nothing. He just hoped that at least his house would bring her back some memories. When he opened the door, he checked her face, yet he failed to see that she was forcing a smile. She was feeling more than sad… she was deplorable because she was only bringing him down along with her and it was paining her. She was already suffering and she was making him suffer too, and the part of her that was still conscious and in love with him was hurting.

Lucky came to greet the two of them, wagging his tail. "Hey boy, how are ya?" Clint ducked and stroked the dog's fur as he licked his face. The dog sniffed Natasha and then stood on its two back legs and placed the other two on her thighs, requesting her to pet him. She smiled and brushed his fur. "He likes you."

"I liked him too."

She took a seat on the couch and Lucky climbed on top of it too, resting his head on her lap. She was still petting the dog and he was fond of her.

"Do you want to eat anything?" Clint asked her, giving the fact that she didn't eat since breakfast and it was almost seven in the afternoon. As he opened cabinets in the kitchen, he realized he didn't have much to offer her. "Maybe we should order something. How about some Chinese food?"

"Китайский народ представляющих интерес чтобы убить: Yau Xiasheng, Tuan Yusheng, You Ling, Cong Juan-"

"Natasha!" Clint spoke loudly to wake her up but she didn't seem to react, continuing to recite names and speaking in Russian. She only returned to reality when he shook her. "You're alright?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know; you started speaking Russian all of the sudden."

She looked at him, breathless and apologized once again in that day. "I'm so sorry, I'm drifting off."

"It's alright." He reassured her. "Want something to eat?"

"No, I'm fine. I'll just" She looked around and continued. "watch some TV to uhm... stop thinking…"

He nodded his head and opened his laptop, to access (or try to) his SHIELD files when he was confronted with the fact that he didn't have the level clearance to see those files. He immediately left the room and called to the Agency.

"This is Agent Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye, spare me the crap talk," He said right away. "tell me why I can't access my own files."

At first the Agent from the other side was taken aback but then she answered. "Agent Barton, it says here that you are not authorized to access _anything_. You won't even be able to enter the Agency."

"How's that? Who ordered that?"

"I can't tell you-"

"Who ordered that?"

After searching for a while she told him. "Agent Duncan."

He snorted and asked her. "Transfer my call to him, will you?"

"Hello, Agent Barton?" Duncan spoke.

"You son of a bitch. Now I can't even walk enter the Agency because you've blocked me?"

"It was a decision that needed to be made. You're making all the right decisions. I understand Agent Romanoff is your partner and everyone here is gossiping that you're her boyfriend too-"

"Twelve-year-old girls have boyfriends. I am her man." He firmly told him.

"See, that's why of things like this that you're not welcomed in returning to the Agency for a while. My apologies, but it had to be done."

"Louis, prepare your face 'cause when I see you again, I'm gonna break it!"

He was beyond pissed but he putting behind his back. Natasha needed him; he was not going to waste his time and patience with someone like Louis Duncan who in the past year had six different partners because none wanted to stick with him. Duncan was far from understanding the value of a partner and a lover. He phoned Tony and asked him to dig up those files himself. He wanted to know what SHIELD injected him when he was under Loki's spell. He wanted to know if there were any more powerful shots, what their effects were. Anything would do.

When he met Natasha, she was in his laptop, going through her own files of seven years ago.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting familiar with what I'll become in no time."

He shut the computer and stared her. "Don't do this to yourself. I'm here-"

"_Barton_," Second time that day she had called him like that. Tears were brewing in her eyes. "I don't remember this house anymore. It's familiar to me… but I don't remember anything."

"Take a walk around." He said helpless; his heart aching massively. "I'm sure something will come up to you."

She didn't fight his decision. She was determined to remember anything at all and so she got up and started walking around the house, considering each and every detail. He, obviously, walked after her. "What if I don't remember anything, anymore?"

"You can forget everything and everyone; as long as you remember me, everything will be alright."

Natasha looked back at him. "And if I forget you too?"

"I've told you once before: the problems of your past are your business; the problems of your future are my privilege. I won't leave you in the lurch. Ever. Any problem that comes up, I'll help you fight it. Whether you remember me or not."

"The bedroom…" She whispered standing by the door. Natasha walked in and took a seat on the edge of the bed, caressing the bed sheets. She gave him a smile that naturally invited in to walk closer to her.

As he walked in the bedroom she laid on bed, facing up. He proceeded to do the same, lying next to her. Unlike Natasha, Clint was almost falling asleep but always fought the feeling. She lied on her side, watching him. "Give up on me, _Barton_," Third time. "I'm a lost cause."

He turned his head and told her in the lowest of the voices. "That would be the same as asking me to put a bullet in my head."

"Why does everybody worry about me right now?" Tears finally rushed down her face. "I'm hurting you and nobody seems to care. Why am I the only one who cares?"

"It's a bit sadistic, but as long as you still care and suffer about me, there's still hope."

"For the past three hours I've been fighting the urge to kill you. This is no child's play, you'll get hurt…"

He lied on his side too, looking at her. "I'll fix you, don't worry."

Clint fell asleep shortly after that. Natasha ran her fingers through his hair as the voices in her head were getting louder. One was telling her to choke him, the other to skin him, but still the strongest voice in her head was still the wisest and she was holding on, hardly, but she was holding on. She couldn't distinguish right from wrong, past from present. Everything was blurry and she knew she was losing her mind by the minute. She got up and let him sleep undisturbedly. Natasha didn't have a second of silence; her head was in turmoil.

Clint jumped off bed when he heard noise in his house. Natasha wasn't there and he only expected the worst. She had been trying to unlock doors to run away, but in moments of clarity, she always managed to stop herself. He found her in the living room, sitting in the middle of the floor. There was not surrounding her, nothing at all. She had pushed all the furniture away. But there was something in his hand. As he didn't make any noise, she didn't notice him standing behind her. He saw her putting his gun against her head. He fell on his knees on an attempt to run to her and stop her as she pulled the trigger.

"Tasha…" He murmured.

* * *

><p><strong>Am I terrible? Yes! My promise to fix things right? Post a new chapter tomorrow... or at least, try really hard to do so.<strong>

**Your thoughts on this? And yes, you may call me all the horrible names you find suitable; I'll be smiling when reading it. (I feel like Loki right now) It only means I'm messing up with you really good.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I promisde a chapter for today, here I am, fulfilling my promise. Hope you enjoy. I still play with your feelings, but oh well, apparently you guys like it!**

* * *

><p><em>Clint jumped off bed when he heard noise in his house. Natasha wasn't there and he only expected the worst. She had been trying to unlock doors to run away, but in moments of clarity, she always managed to stop herself. He found her in the living room, sitting in the middle of the floor. There was not surrounding her, nothing at all. She had pushed all the furniture away. But there was something in his hand. As he didn't make any noise, she didn't notice him standing behind her. He saw her putting his gun against her head. He fell on his knees on an attempt to run to her and stop her as she pulled the trigger. <em>

"_Tasha…" He murmured._

"I removed the bullets." She said.

At the same time he was concerned because he had the revolver completely reloaded and yet he was only seeing five bullets on the floor. His revolver takes _six_ bullets, meaning one was still in the cylinder. She cocked the gun and pulled the trigger again; the revolver letting out a dry sound only, being just the hammer striking the firing pin. He walked to her, furious but then he stopped for a moment when she spoke.

"Stay where you are. Everything around me is a weapon; I'm a weapon myself and I can kill you without realizing it."

Clint continued to walk to her; like he cared about what she was saying. He ducked and took the revolver off her hands, checking the cylinder. One bullet there; the next one on the chamber, ready to be fired. "What the hell were you doing? Playing Russian Roulette?"

"If it was meant for me to die, I should be dead eight tries ago."

"You've never believe in that crap of fate or that things happen for a reason." He sighed and sat in front of her.

"There's no possible scenario in which both of us get to live. Either I kill you or I kill myself first."

"Well, I'm not very fond with your second suggestion, so" He pulled the hammer back and gave her the gun. "take the time to kill me if you so want to."

Immediately she put the barrel against his forehead. He finger caressed the trigger as she was doubtful. Her expressions were stiffened and she didn't break eye contact with him. "Why are you pressuring me? You think this is easy on me?"

"People don't pressure other people when things are easy." He told her. "If you so want to kill me, do it!"

She pressed the barrel harder against his forehead. He could see her eyes filling up with fire and rage, until she let out a breath. Natasha regained control of herself. She got up, removed the bullet of the cylinder and then threw both the bullet and the gun on the floor. Clint breathed when he saw her doing so. He got up and she was still back turned to him; he thought of apologizing for having pressured her, but he got a hell of slap in the face instead. The blood was throbbing on his cheek and her red handprint was sprawling on his face. There was a moment of silence and they didn't dare to look at one another.

"I'm hungry now." She coldly and briefly said.

He walked to the kitchen and she followed after him. He put before her a bowl that he filled with cereals and milk and threw a spoon over the counter, all movements done with extreme violence, almost breaking the bowl in the process. Clint placed both his hands over the counter, standing in front of her, watching her eating. Her movements were fierce too, filling her mouth with the cereals. He couldn't recognize her anymore. Yet, in her eyes he could see a speck of what she really is.

Clint was angry, he didn't know if with her for wanting to kill herself or if with himself for almost ruining everything when he threatened her to pull the trigger. He knew how reckless he had been, but he was feeling her slipping away as the hours went by and apparently, only being rough against her would have an effect.

Just when she was done eating she spoke. "You shouldn't have done that, Barton."

He took the bowl from her and said. "I know, but saying sorry now won't fix it, will it?" Unintentionally (but filled with anger) he threw the bowl inside the sink and it broke. The noise startled the very frail and confused Natasha. She immediately went for a knife, engaging her fighting stance. "Put down the knife…" He calmly said. "It was just the bowl that shattered." Fearlessly he approached her. He wrapped his hands around her wrists, very slowly. "Drop it, Natasha. It's all okay." She dropped the knife on the floor and he pulled her close, holding her in his embrace. "You are much stressed," Clint ran his fingers through her hair. "you have to rest."

"I can't close my eyes… It just makes me more confused. Don't let me fall asleep." She begged.

Clint leaned back on the counter and slowly slid down, sitting on the floor. She sat in the V of his legs and leaned her head on his chest. "I won't…" He said, still stroking her hair. He knew she'd be asleep in no time.

He caressed the bare skin of her arms and watched her getting a chill; he could still cause a reaction on her with his touch. Clint was very horrified, as if it was the best word used to describe it, because she was broken-one minute she was threatening to slice his throat, the other she was shaking like a leaf on the wind, absolutely scared. Her face was sunken from lack of sleep and stress. He just wanted the old Natasha back, the fearless, strong, teasing and crazy for him Natasha.

When she fell asleep, he carried her in his arms to bed. She slept all night, unlike him who couldn't even close his eyes. He was losing her.

* * *

><p>Morning turned out to be even harder than the night before. Natasha was right when she said sleeping would make her more confused. She now only had two moods: killer Natasha and recently-brought-into-SHIELD Natasha. That meant that she was either too shy around Clint and called Agent Barton, and then she'd swing moods and call him Barton in a much deeper and threatening tone of voice and chase after him to kill. She'd refer to him as the bastard archer who was sent to kill her. So far, he had counted five murder attempts and the only thing he did was disarm her without ever harming her. She was still <em>his<em> Natasha.

She had been speaking both English and Russian, and occasionally she'd slip into some other languages Clint didn't even imagined what were. Russian speaking meant she was listing her objectives, of people to kill and organizations to destroy. One name that was often coming up was SHIELD and in those moments, she'd always head to the door to attempt escaping. When she was speaking in English she was either threatening him or she was asking him why they were at his house and if they shouldn't be on a mission or at SHIELD's headquarters. And after pronouncing the Agency's acronym, she'd go back to the Russian Black Widow methods and try to kill him again.

Clint's phone buzzed on his pocket. He picked up the call. "Tell me you've got news."

"Yes, and very good news. There's a stronger shot than the one SHIELD gave up. It's the strain 9, and it says on the files it can flush out up to a month of damage done to one's brain."

"We're gonna need at least ten or twelve of those. But I can't enter SHIELD… I've got a plan, but it will only start working when I give you the cue, understand? I don't want you to do anything stupid about this."

"I treasure my life enough to do anything stupid that would naively harm Natasha."

"Rogers has to go to SHIELD, he can enter there, and he must bring enough of those shots. He better take Thor, to impose some more respect around. When I give you the call, you call Bruce and tell him to go to the Tower. I'll take Natasha right after and you must shut down all communications and completely lock down the Tower."

"Why all of that? 'The hell happened, Barton?"

"I'm not sure; all I know is that I was temporarily kicked out of SHIELD. Do that for me? If you don't I can-"

"Barton," Tony spoke serious. "we're a team, and a team always sticks together. If we sink, we go down altogether." He didn't let Clint even express his gratitude for such reassurance. Tony wasn't really sure if he was going to thank anyway… He and Clint weren't the best examples of feeling-sharing people. "How's she?"

"Bad… Either she acts like she had just met me or she tries to kill me. Right now she's calm and eyeing me very suspiciously," Clint said, looking at her. He put Tony on hold and asked her. "I'm talking to Tony, remember him?"

"Tony Stark, the guy who builds the Iron Man suits?"

"Yes."

"One more to kill!" She mumbled and started walking to him.

"I call you later if the plan is a go." The archer said quickly as Natasha attempted to kill him again.

It was only midday by now and Clint was lying on the floor, tired. His life had been attempted eighteen times already and she only seemed to get worst. And just when he thought he could take a rest, breathe in and recover his strengths she was kicking him in the ribs, wielding a knife. He didn't have time to dodge, holding the knife less than an inch way from his chest. She was strong, much stronger than him at that moment. His palms were sweaty and the blade was sliding down; he could feel the sharp edge of the knife scratching his skin already. Natasha was using a horrendous force, determined to make of that Clint's last breathe. That was until Lucky came to rescue his owner. He distracted Natasha when he started barking and growling at her and then he jumped on her and caught the sleeve of her shirt between his teeth and started pulling her away. Clint sat up and ordered his dog to let go off Natasha once he took the knife of her hands.

But Natasha didn't give up. She let her hands wrap around his neck and she squeezed harder and harder. Clint was being left with lesser air to breathe until he realized her memories were too distorted and that forcing her further more could lead her, as the doctors told him, to forget _every_ memory she'd have. So he took no risks, even though his heart was aching. He gained control over her, but it didn't mean she didn't put up a fight. He ended up pinning her down on the floor, face down, and locked her neck with his arm. He whispered 'I'm sorry' countless time with tears in eyes, but he had to do it. She passed out and he dropped her on the floor. First thing he did was grabbing his phone and telling Tony to start the plan. Then he picked her up in arms and drove to Stark Tower.

* * *

><p><strong>Of course she'd fire a blank! Did you really think I was going to kill her?<strong>

**Oh, but what about now? Things keep on getting worse...**


	6. Chapter 6

Tony helped Clint laying Natasha on a chaise longue and they tried their best to tip her up with pieces of cloth before she'd awake up. Steve and Thor had left to go to SHIELD and bring the shots, and Dr. Banner had just arrived. He was utterly nervous; he always said he didn't know how to handle medical stuff but Clint begged for his help in such a manner that the man gave in. Pepper watched with a distance (after being warned to do so) and was heartbroken seeing Natasha like that. She wasn't the most opened-up person she ever met, but she was _nothing_ like the woman she was seeing before her eyes.

Natasha struggled to break free of the rudimentary straps Clint and Tony arranged. She spat out angry and obscene words, mostly in Russian. Coercive ideas re-evolved in her brain, they resonated to her core, slowly replacing love and happiness with fear and anger. Without any try her mind was becoming a wall and being deleted. Clint was on the edge; he didn't know how much dejection he could take. Natasha was losing control and he was falling helplessly before her.

As soon as Steve and Thor entered the Tower, Tony ordered JARVIS to shut all communications and to completely lock down the whole Tower until further notice. The AI obeyed and proceeded to do as he was ordered. Bruce took a deep breath and ducked near Natasha and started to disinfect her arm to inject her the first dose of the serum. Clint pinned her down on the chaise long as she even attempt to bite the Doctor. If she managed to do so, they'd have Natasha out of her mind and Bruce out of his mind too. The doctor had only injected half the serum of the syringe when he stopped and pulled it out of her arm.

He analyzed the flask Steve had brought and realized that he had been looking at the container upside down the whole time. It was not a 9… it was a 6. Steve brought the wrong shot. Luckily, he hoped, just the only one.

"What's the matter?" Clint asked concerned, watching him going through all the twelve vials.

They had a 6 written on. "You've brought the wrong shots." Bruce said, turning to Steve. "They all have a 6 on it. It should be a 9."

Steve sighed. "I swear I turned the damn vials more than once; I couldn't tell if it was a 9 or a 6."

Bruce took off his glasses and dug his fingers on his hair; he was feeling guilty even if wasn't his fault. Steve wanted to walk out the door and go to SHIELD again and bring the right shots. Tony was on his laptop, trying to get informations on the effects of the strain 6 and then started mumbling that the Agency was starting to track him down.

"It's a brain activity accelerant…" Tony said.

The doctor continued to feel guilty for something he wasn't to blame, Steve was still insisting in going to SHIELD again, Tony was furious because the Agency was on track of them and Thor had grabbed his hammer and walked out the Tower. Nobody was caring about Clint who was crestfallen and disappointed with himself. Nobody other than Pepper. She found him next to Natasha, holding her hand. She was awake and looking at him; at first she thought he had somehow managed to bring her back to her consciousness but judging by Clint's words she soon realized it was nothing like that.

"Listen to me just for a second." He didn't raise his eyes at her, looking at her hand as he stroked its back with his thumb. "I'm an idiot, thinking that I could… You're not lost yet, Tasha…" He forced his tears back. "I'll take you to SHIELD and have your brain wiped out. It doesn't matter if you lose all the memories you have so far. Forcing you won't make it any better… Besides, I don't care about losing years of your memories if you get to be alright. I can spend the next years rebuilding memories with you, because" He bent and placed a slow kiss on the back of her hand. What he said next came out as a whisper that Pepper could barely listen. "I love you enough to endure this and much more."

"Clint…?" Pepper spoke softly, avoiding startling any of the two. "I think you may still keep your hopes up. Thor opened a portal right in the middle of New York and went to Asgard."

* * *

><p>"Sir," JARVIS spoke. "Director Fury stands at the entrance of the Tower and requests to enter."<p>

Tony looked at Clint who gave him a nod. "Let him in, JARVIS."

"Yes, Sir."

"I want to know what the hell happened so that a portal to the outer world was opened right in the middle of New York City!" Fury said as soon as he entered and met them.

"You've gotta ask that to the Asgardian, Sir." Clint answered, a little uncomfortable.

Fury looked at the others and asked them. "I want to have a word with Barton. Alone." Bruce, Tony, Steve and Pepper nodded their heads and left the two of them alone. "Agent Barton, I wanted to personally tell you that Agent Duncan is no longer at the service of SHIELD."

"Now's a bit too late now, isn't it?"

"Agent Duncan misunderstood my orders and took actions without my consent." Fury crossed his arms behind his back and looked out the window, seeing the portal being opened again. "And the punch you said you owed him?" He turned around and continued. "Fixed it myself."

"Thanks?" Clint said sarcastically.

The Director strolled across the room and asked. "How's Agent Romanoff?"

"Her brain is tearing itself to pieces; we're losing her by the minute."

Fury, who had seen Thor coming with a man through the portal, spoke. "I'm sure the Asgardian is coming up with help."

Having said that Fury left, quiet. The others returned to the room and saw Thor entering with a very old man, appearing to be already in his hundred years. They could tell he was an Asgardian too by his outfit. Svart was already near Natasha, just gazing her.

"This is Svart Rennirson. I think he can help Lady Natasha." Thor explained. "He was called to help my brother several times before, though he could not do much for Loki."

"What does he do?" Clint asked suspicious and with no hope left.

Thor struggled to find a reasonably explicative word without giving away too much. "Magic… Rennirson has the capability of changing the bad to good by absorbing evil vibes."

"I can have her memories persist but being harmless." The man ended up the explanation.

Clint frowned; he didn't want that much. SHIELD had already wiped her mind of the wicked things HYDRA did to her. He was not sure if he wanted her remembering that, even if harmlessly. "Even memories from long ago that were wiped out?"

"I do magic, son, not miracles. If the memories aren't in one's mind, I do not bring them back. You," Svart pointed to everyone except Clint. "leave me with him and her only."

Thor pushed everyone out of the room; he's always very strict about things related to his people, their capabilities, and especially he's very obedient when taking orders from elders.

"You my boy, tell me what she is suffering of."

"Her brain is a complete mess. Doesn't recognize people, time or places. She had her brain played with many times before; I don't know how they did it if you want to know that."

"Everyone has a breaking point." The old man said. He placed his hand on Natasha's forehead and breathed heavily, pulling his hand back. "I'm not touching this one… That much evilness in her… I can't endure it. I'll perish doing it."

Clint fell on his knees before the man. "You Sir, you can give her everything I've hoped to get. Don't give up… I don't want you to die-ow!" He groaned as the man pressed his finger in his abdomen.

"If your mouth had spoken the truth it should have not have hurt you." Svart said. He held Clint's hands and spoke. "So much lying son," With one hand he touched his forehead and held his breath. "so much pain, so much love…" He concluded, placing his hand over Clint's chest. "Convince me she's worth giving my life away. No lies, boy, I can feel when you lie."

"Want to know the truth? I don't really give a damn if you die; I just want her to be alright. I'd slay half the world if it was what it meant having her back."

"Bring Odinson to me and stay with the others. _No one_ comes in here." Clint slowly got back on his feet. "She'll be unconscious when you find her, but she'll be alright. All of her memories will be in her brain to the very last second until she passes out. All her thoughts will be organized and inoffensive. Do not worry anymore."

"Sir, I can't thank you enough." Clint's eyes sparkled and when the man poked him in the stomach again he didn't feel any pain. He was being honest this time.

* * *

><p>About two hours had gone by since Thor carried the old man in his arms back to Asgard. He said he may not be coming back right away, but he'd come down as soon as possible to know from Natasha. Everyone was sitting near her, waiting for her eyes to open and expect that Svart's magic had worked.<p>

"Hey there." Clint said in a whisper when she tremulously opened her eyes. Natasha smiled, looking at everyone around her, curious. "Do you know where you are, who are we?"

She wanted to joke because she could remember everything but their expectant faces made her give up on that thought. They all needed reassurance. Natasha let herself gaze the environs. "We're at Stark's Tower." She turned her eyes to the people and named them. "There's Steve, Bruce, Tony and Pepper. And hello, JARVIS." Just then they all smiled broadly.

"Hello Mr. Romanoff," The robotic voice spoke. "it's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back."

"And me?" Clint asked, his voice almost breaking down. "Remember me…?"

By this time Steve and Bruce were already walking out the room and Pepper was dragging Tony along with her. The two needed some time alone.

"How could I forget you? You're my _home_, Clint."

Clint jumped from his seat, set her free and kissed Natasha like he never did before. He covered her whole face with kisses too as she smiled, holding tightly his hand on hers. His heart was pounding so fast and hard it was aching him, but he loved that feeling.

Natasha bit her lip and told him. "I have so much to apologize to you I don't even know where to start."

"Having you back is already worth all the apologies."

She threw herself in his arms, hugging him. "Can I ask you something?" She whispered in his ear.

"Anything at all."

"Let's go home. All I want to do is to sleep peacefully again."

"Of course. But maybe we should stay with them for a while. They want to know if you're okay too. They helped us a lot."

She nodded her head and they stayed for a while. Not much though, because they pushed them out of the Tower and told them to go home. The two of them were visibly tired and they, more than anyone else, needed the break. The two fell asleep as soon as they hit the bed. Natasha's body was fitted in Clint's body and he was keeping her tight against himself. Even Lucky jumped to the bed and slept at their feet.

They finally had peace. She was back.

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><p><strong>All's well that ends well. But, I'll give you a bonus chapter to end up this just nice. It will be light, funny and without <em>any<em> drama more. They deserve their happy ending, don't they?**

**Btw, the Svart Rennirson name is ACTUALLY legit, I didn't manipulate or faked it to make it look like any other name (if any of you gets why I'm saying with this, good for you, if not pretend you've never read this xD)**


	7. Chapter 7

_Christmas day, seven years later_

Natasha could still remember the day she gave birth to hers and Clint's baby. A small and very light boy, but healthy and that was what mattered for them the most. They didn't want to know the baby gender until his birth and so they hadn't chosen any name. The two picked a name for their newborn baby when he was placed in their arms. They agreed in giving him both their surnames, and an English first name. They just couldn't agree on a middle name; Clint wanted something Russian because of Natasha, and she wanted something Italian because of Clint's long-time ancestries. Finally they got him a name, Luca Nikolai Romanoff-Barton, but he still didn't have a first name. That was when Natasha suggested Clinton and his heart nearly burst out; his son was going to have his own name. Then there was the problem: Clinton Luca Nikolai was such a long name; what to call him for short? They stuck with Junior since he had his father's first name.

Along the years, Clint and Natasha had very few missions together. They now had somebody else who'd need them the most and they couldn't risk getting hurt. Whenever they were together at home, there were no spies, no killings, no Black Widow or Hawkeye. It was just Clint and Natasha, two people who loved each other madly, and their son. They were parents and they couldn't be happier. They had managed to leave in the world the best part of them. In a way, they both felt that all the lives they ended (no matter how fair those killing were) were made righteous by the birth of their son. Junior, who they loved and protected with their lives, was a part of their hearts living outside their bodies. They were far from understanding the pure beauty of how the two of them created something like that.

He was now a smart and healthy boy of six of age. He could understand the depths of his parents' job. He never asked for much other than their time. Junior loved spending time with his parents, they were the most fun he could have, other than the fun he has with his friends in kindergarten. As Junior grew up, his awareness about the world grew too. He knew that his Uncles (Steve, Thor, Tony and Bruce) were superheroes with superpowers and Clint was particularly sensitive about the all superhero and superpowers thing. He didn't have superpowers; he very lowly only saw himself as a man with a bow and arrows. Would his son think less of him because of that? That was until one day he assured him that, no matter having superpowers, he was his dad and just by that he was his superhero. And then he made sure to tell his mother than no matter how many women he'd like in his life, he'd always love mom the more. Needless to say he could make his parents melt with his sweetness and then make them laugh with his wittiness and adorableness.

Everybody was at Stark Tower, all decorated in Christmas decorations. Everyone was having a good time, simply chilling out. The kids were entertained playing with the toys they had got from Santa, except for Junior who was sitting with the train and rail set he so much asked was still in its package, untouched. Everyone had tried to cheer him up and even asked if he needed help to put the rail together and the train working but he said Clint had promised the two of them would it. Natasha couldn't chill out as much as she wanted seeing her boy sitting on the couch with a sad face. She walked to couch and pulled him to her lap.

"What's the matter, buddy?"

"Tori and Lizzie have here their mom and dad. Sienna does too, and I don't."

Tori and Lizzie are Tony and Pepper's twin girls, Victoria and Elizabeth. They were five of age, dearly beautiful and adorable girls. Tony did say he would always be surrounded by women and now the most important people in his life were indeed three women. Sienna was Jane and Thor's daughter and she was three-years-old. They put on her an English name and a Norse name, Sienna Bethanie Thordottir, as Thor had been living for the past three years on Earth (but not disregarding his duties as Asgardian). He had blend in Earth's life style, though he still struggled with pants and shirts and still got some weird stares whenever he was eating in public.

Natasha stroked her son's brownish hair and put a kiss on his head. "You know about dad's job."

"I know," He said with tears in his eyes. "but he promised he'd come for Christmas."

It was hurting her having to continue with the petty lie but she didn't want her son to be sad and cry. Clint was on his way home at the moment, from a mission, but they agreed not to tell him, so they'd surprise him with his arrival. "Want to call dad and talk with him?" She asked him as a way to relieve his gloominess.

"We won't put him in trouble for calling?"

She only nodded her head, calling Clint. "Hey there, how are you?"

"_I'm on my way to the Tower as fast as I can. I'll be there in less than ten minutes._" Clint smiled instantly. Even though they talked on the phone regularly, it was extra comforting knowing that he was coming home after four months away.

"Good, but there's someone who wants to talk with you."

"_Is he angry for not being there? If he is, you can tell him I'm on my way._"

"He's a bit sad; he just wants to talk with you."

Natasha handed the phone to her son. "Hi daddy."

"_Hey there, buddy. Dad misses you a lot._"

With teary eyes he answered. "Miss you too. When will you come home?"

"_Soon, sooner than you expect. But tell me, was Santa good to you?_"

"Yeah, I got the train and rail set I wanted."

"_Oh, that's nice. And have you put it together?_"

"No, I'm waiting for you to come so we can do it. You promised."

"_I know, and I've never made you any promise I couldn't keep. We'll do it. Now, can you be happier, please?_"

Junior climbed down of his mother lap and told his father. "Alright, I'll go play with Uncle Bruce or Uncle Tony. But I won't open my gift!"

Clint sighed; mother's stubbornness. "_Alright, that's a start. Love you, Junior._"

"Love you too, daddy." Junior gave the phone back to Natasha who just said she'd be waiting for him.

When Clint appeared at the door, he told everyone not to tell Junior about it. He was playing with Tony _Go Fish_. Clint put a kiss on Natasha's lips and asked. "Did I get here on time?"

"Couldn't have been better."

Clint walked slowly to his son and squatted next to him. "Still want to put that train working?"

Junior's mouth opened in awe and he threw himself into a hug. "Daddy, you're home!"

After greeting everyone properly now, Clint lied face down on the floor, just like Junior, and the two were entertained setting the rail. Natasha watched the two with a big smile on her face. She couldn't ever have asked for better; she was having her happy ending.

"Look at it, mom!" He said super excited, climbing to her lap as the train was moved on the rail. Clint came to sit next to the two of them. "Can I ask something for next Christmas already?" Both Clint and Natasha shrugged and waited to listen from him. "I want a brother or a sister."

"Maybe…" Natasha said. "Who knows?" Junior was lying on the floor again, playing with his Christmas present.

Clint kissed her neck and whispered. "This is how I manage to live through the missions; I love coming home to you two."

"Go stuff yourself with some booze." She said, pushing him away with a smirk. "But get me something to drink first."

"What my lady wants, my lady gets." He answered back.

Pepper and Jane took a seat on the couch next to Natasha, and the redheaded asked. "Uhm, Clint's being _too_ polite, like he's expecting something."

"I answered with a 'maybe' to Junior's next year Christmas request and now he's like this."

Jane was intrigued as Pepper and asked. "And what did the little one asked?"

"A sibling."

"Nothing makes a man work his ass out more than the possibility of getting laid." The three ended up chuckling, enjoying their drinks.

Still Natasha couldn't ever complain about what Clint does for her and he means to her. She was utterly happy; love makes people do unthinkable things. And now she no longer held back the 'I love you' words even though she battled for years saying that love is for children. The two realized that they could never find someone like each other and they took their chance and didn't let it slip away. After all, after letting such a chance fly away, rarely one gets the chance to get it back. And the two were pleased in saying that they live every day fully, without excessive concerns, enjoying each and every bit of their little and ordinary life that made them happier than they have ever been, knowing that they had taken the chance.

* * *

><p><strong>This is it, guys. This is the end. *feels sad* I loved writing this so much, though I know (very!) I'm back with more Clintasha fanctions.<strong>

**Did you like my bonus chapter? I promised to make it cute and light... And hopefully I wrote Natasha as the way she is, completely cured. **


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